A/N: this chapter has been edited from it's original state

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His lungs filled with smoke, the smell of burning flesh choking him as the screaming persisted through the flames. It was all the same again, again, and again. The image replaying in his head. Something was new however, something was different. A dark, empty feeling that pulled life from him, calling. Dragging him to shackles in a concrete box. A prison cell. Someone else's prison cell, far, far, far away. Empty.

8:32 AM

November 2nd, 20XX

Toby awakened suddenly, groggily sitting up in his bed with his covers folded neatly over him now scrunched. He remembered vaguely a dream. Something about the fire again, something about concrete? It was all fading from him, and he didn't care enough to hold onto any of it. Toby checked the time, he'd slept long enough to classify as healthy, in his mind. He swung his feet around to the edge of his bed and stood on wobbly legs. He walked into the bathroom, staring in the mirror.

Toby ran his hand through his hair. It was starting to curl again. He sighed and considered straightening it now, but didn't particularly feel like it. He was weighed down by guilt that seemed so distant now, lingering from his last foster parents judgement. He was twenty-five now, much past that. And yet still it clung to him. Toby took a deep breath and decided to straighten it later in favor of brushing his teeth.

His unnaturally bright orange eyes stood out against his dark skin. They weren't always orange. They were brown before his death. Guess coming back to life really does change you, he thought, lamenting his old life back when he was seven. A section of his hair was orange too. Toby had tried dyeing it brown again but got tired of it after of while. Wasn't as important to him. He finished brushing his teeth and put away the toothpaste.

Toby's apartment was small and cramped, but just fine for one person. Cozy for sure. He thought for a moment, considering going out today before deciding for sure; absolutely the hell yes.

Toby reached under his bed for it.

His suit, red with orange detailing, with dark boots and a belt to match. The most striking detail was white bows he tied to his waist for for decoration. In terms of meaning, there wasn't much personal to him about them. He would've gone with black ribbons if that was the case. But white came with nice messages anyways. He put on his mask, which he had sewn jewels to himself. They were cheap gems in the shape of fire.

He had operated under the name Flint when in costume, which had felt quite embarrassing the first few times. Flint slid window open and got onto the fire escape.

He had some planning to do.

9:46 AM

November 2nd, 20XX

Flint's "Secret" Base

Tracking his moves, his targets, predicting attacks. With Rebound's sporadic behavior it was pretty much impossible to know where he'd be next. This was to the frustration of Flint, who had made a map of the city with figurines and everything to try and catch him off guard. There was no telling where he would strike next...

CRASH. Standing smugly under a new hole in the roof was the man of the hour himself. 

He leant forward just a bit, grinning mischievously, "Wow, you are really bad at hiding these places. It took me less than a day this time!" Rebound casually strolled towards Flint's table and nonchalantly picked up the piece that looked just like him. "And this is me? I'm flattered, really." A sense of death lingered in the air, although faint. Flint grabbed his wrist, "Are you gonna throw a punch or what? I don't have all day, I have a base to relocate after all." He huffed a remark, annoyed at the frequency and irregular nature of which he kept finding him, yet more taunting Rebound than anything else. The villain chuckled, "Only if you catch it." 

Driving his fist into Flint's gut painfully, he smiled. "You can't predict what isn't planned, sparks. I have no clue what I'm doing half the time!" Flint clutched his abdomen, starting a fire with his skin by snapping his fingers. "That's it? Pretty pathetic for you," he retorted, tossing ash and ember at his arm, "Came here just to say hi, or did you miss getting burned?" Flint interlocked his fingers with his nemesis and shoved him towards the balcony gradually. Green bolts of lightning sputtered from Rebounds hands, arms, and teeth, which were bared in a violent smile. They didn't hurt, but were a common side effect of Rebound's invincibility. As far as Flint knew, Rebound was invincible to the extent of him believing he was. That's why it was helpful to catch him off guard.

"Your birthday is soon, right?" Flint prompted, kicking Rebound's legs out from under him. "November 27th, why?" Rebound hesitantly replied, only now realizing his nemesis had caught him before falling. Flint chuckled,"Oh, just planning my day off." He joked as he pushed Rebound back to his feet and has promptly uppercut square in the jaw, "You'll be... twenty six?" Flint skid across the metal floor, sending sparks in every direction, as his hit was quite literally deflected back onto him. "Wouldn't have it any other way, too bad you're a baby, I'd invite you out for drinks." It was impossible to tell if Rebound was being truthful or not, but it seemed honest enough. Flint gawked and chuckled at his reply, "'Baby'? I'm younger by one year. What are you then, the elderly?" Flint joked, as Rebound came up with nothing creative this time, and instead slapped him square in the jaw, "I guess it does," he stepped back, "Oh, and it's your turn to throw a punch. I've done like three in a row." Flint shook his head, "No no, I've been the one kicking your ass, go ahead." His nemesis gestured to himself as if to display where one could hit him, "You're the whole crime fighting one here, go ahead, fight the walking crime." 

"Well, if you insist!" Instantly, Flint grabbed his hands and swung him at the wall. Rebound winced quietly, just barely audible, and gave a smug look, "You got two more, maybe try to hurt me? Just a suggestion." The hero made it count this time, launching into the air and leading with his heel, straight at Rebound's face. "Agh... I've been hit... By an idiot in size nines..." He half heartedly complained at the hit, clearly phoning it in to be funny and annoying, Flint picked up on this immediately, "Dramatic," he reached out his hand to pull the villain to his feet, and when he did, they were all too close to each other, "That didn't hurt." Rebound held up two fingers, in a seemingly defeated fashion, "One more hit." 

Flint skid his foot on the floor to light it on fire, and swung it into his nemeses's head. "Seriously...? Again with the kicking me in the head?" Rebound paused for a moment, and then, in a playful tone, updated the count, "...one more, sparks. A free bonus if you will. Better make me implode or I'm not impressed."

The hero scoffed, just before driving his fist into Rebound's gut. Revenge. The blow launched him at the balcony, which overlooked an underground cavern. Just before falling hundreds of feet downwards, Flint caught the scruff of his suit. Leaning over the edge, he laughed. "Tie?" He prompted, reaching his hand behind him for a handshake. The hero chuckled, replying teasingly, "In your dreams." Flint pulled him back up to his feet and changed his tone almost instantly, "Now get out."

As Rebound exited the base in a more graceful fashion this time, leaving through the main door, Flint sighed, only now remembering the mess he had made upon breaking in. Picking up a broom that had been snapped in half during the fight, he tediously swept up the debris. As he filed parts of the not-so secure-anymore ceiling into a moving box, barely fitting all of it, he figured he was alone now and could change out of his suit. While hesitant, fearing he could be seen, he took the mask off anyways. Pulling off his mask, hand decorated with fire shaped gemstones, he was revealed to be just Toby Harris. With no audience in sight, it wasn't all that big of a deal, but he did need to grab his normal clothes before heading home.

Toby pulled his dark green cable knit sweater over his head and walked out into the main section of his, not all that secret, base. After the fight, and most importantly; being found again, he would need to take apart the whole place and resemble it elsewhere. He folded up his plans and tucked his figurines into his leather satchel, only now realizing Rebound's piece was completely missing. Instinctively, Flint slid on his mask to go ask for it back, but as if on cue, the culprit himself swung open the door and ran through, "Hey...!" Rebound suddenly stopped and stared, confused, "What's the deal with..." He gestured at Flint's clothes, "This?" Flint saw the model in his hand, now he'd just have to to get it back, and through the door, "Just wanted to be comfortable, but I have to go. Can I have that back?" Rebound relaxed his shoulders and glanced around as if the real Flint, in suit, would jump out of nowhere to stop him, "Alright... have a... have a bad day? I guess? Bye."

He directly handed over the statuette of himself gently, and when he did, their hands briefly touched. It wasn't a huge deal, but with how quickly Rebound was flustered by this, likely out of embarrassment or caution, it made Flint realize he should wear gloves so his fingerprints couldn't be traced. He waited for his nemesis to leave, again, and finally watched the door shut with a click. Exhaling briefly, Flint sprinted to his escape exit-- all great, and safe, bases had them. He removed his mask again, dashing out the door, he ran back to his apartment, figurine in hand, heart in throat. 

Rebound in mind.

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